I Can't Control Myself
by watsontheweird
Summary: England does not like nightclubs. Luckily, he has found a rather interesting distraction. AsaKiku.


**Disclaimer: I, very regrettably, don't own anything. On the other hand, that's probably a good thing. I would never be able to make Hetalia as awesome as it is.**

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Arthur Kirkland shifts in his seat and glances around uneasily. He hasn't been to a club in a very long time. In fact, he wouldn't even be there now if that irritating Frenchman hadn't dragged him along after the meeting. He grips his glass tightly in both hands and wishes he could leave. The tinny beat of some horrible euro-pop song is giving him a pounding headache, and he can't see anyone he knows in the writhing mass of dancing bodies. Apart from France, that is, but he doesn't count. He is currently dancing with an admittedly very attractive blonde, and, as England watches, he whispers something in her ear and she giggles. The git. Arthur turns away in disgust. He drains his glass and signals to the barmaid. She nods.

Sipping his second drink, England turns away from the dance floor. He lets his gaze wander along the bar. Next to him, a couple of girls gossip over a sickly-looking pink cocktail. Arthur briefly wonders how anyone can bring themselves to drink such a thing before moving on. A little further down, a middle-aged man is trying to chat up a beautiful brunette who is very clearly not interested. And next to them – Arthur draws a sharp breath. Next to them is the one person he had not expected to see here.

He watches as Kiku Honda moodily sips his Coke, eyes averted, and smirks. Maybe his evening could be salvaged after all. If it wasn't for the music, that is. As he watches the young man push his silky black hair out of his face, Arthur starts humming a different song altogether, and does his best to ignore the whiny vocals blasting through the room.

_I can't stand still 'cos you've got me goin'_

The Troggs have never been a particular favourite of Arthur's, but at the moment 60s garage rock seems infinitely preferable to euro-pop.

_Your slacks are low and your hips are showin'_

Why are the lyrics suddenly coming back to him? He hasn't listened to this song in years. He hums a few more bars.

_The low cut slacks and your long black hair_

Speaking of which… he glances at Japan. Kiku's hair is falling into his eyes again, and as Arthur watches, he bites his lip. Arthur groans quietly. He would swear that the other man was doing it on purpose, but this is Japan we're talking about. Arthur orders another drink. He watches Kiku finish his Coke, and the beautiful black haired man – though he looks hardly more than a boy – slurps the last dregs from his glass with his straw. Then, he slowly licks a drop of the sugary drink from his lips. Arthur's trousers suddenly feel a little tighter. Damn him! How dare he have this effect on him! Oblivious to the other man's stare, Kiku pushes his thumb between his lips – a childhood habit – and gazes into the distance. Arthur drains his glass. That's it. Too much temptation. He gets up and sways dangerously. Perhaps he has had more to drink that he remembers, but he doesn't care. He makes his way over to Kiku, who has his back turned to him. Just as he is about to tap him on the shoulder, Arthur pauses. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of the young man before him, entirely unaware of his presence. His slender frame looks fragile, perched on a bar stool. His silky smooth hair falls perfectly to the nape of his neck, where it meets the collar of the grey business suit that he had worn at the meeting. Arthur's eyes wander hungrily downwards. Kiku's waist is slim, and his well-cut trousers show off his small, firm ass. He smirks.

After another minute or so, Arthur slips up silently behind Japan and whispers in his ear.

"Hello, Kiku," he says huskily.

Japan turns around, confused. "Hello Arthur," comes the doubtful reply. "What –"

Before he can finish his sentence, Arthur lays a hand on Kiku's thigh and squeezes gently.

A blush rises on Japan's cheeks. "W-what are you doing? You must be drunk. I'll get you a cab, yes?"

Arthur leans in closer, his lips brushing against Japan's ear. "I'm not drunk. It's just that you look so damn sexy in that suit, Kiku." He wraps his arms around Kiku's waist and breathes in deeply, relishing the smell of the other man.

Japan tries to shake him off, but to no avail. His blush deepens. "England-san, w-why are you doing this?"

No reply. Arthur merely buries his face in Kiku's soft black hair. His hands roam the other man's body. Japan's breath hitches. Arthur licks the sensitive alabaster skin of Kiku's neck. Finally, Japan pushes him away, breathing heavily.

"S-stop, Arthur." Kiku turns to face him, flushed and wide-eyed.

"You're gorgeous when you blush, Kiku-chan," Arthur murmurs, tracing the other man's jawline with his finger.

Japan flinches, but doesn't pull away. "But why –?

Arthur looks at him, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry. When I'm with you, I can't control myself."

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**This is my first Hetalia fanfiction ever, so I hope it wasn't too bad. Please rate and review, constructive criticism appreciated :)**

**Also, the song is I Can't Control Myself by The Troggs.**


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